Together we stood and gazed with earnestness towards the horizon as the sun hidden beneath the trees began its ascent into the cloudless early morning sky. We had both left high paying rat raced careers in the city and had opted out of mainstream society to live off the land as our great grand parents had done. Completely off grid, no electricity, no running water, we were acclimatizing ourselves to live without cell phones, computers, TV, radio and the most basic of essentials a dishwasher. Each morning we awoke to the calm silence of the country, the sweet trill of birdsong and the occasional rustle of animals in the undergrowth. Our log cabin stood at the edge of acres of dirt, left untended for years, hard and dry, packed tightly in clumps as if to ward off intruders. Hoe in hand, wheelbarrow, shovel and pick axe this land, our land required hours, no days, yes weeks of labour to bring to fruition our dream of row upon row of Scarlet apple trees. The work was physically back breaking and deeply satisfying.